Our Honduran trip to Cuba

Here we are on a Cuban beach surrounded by hundreds of Canadians – who are just off camera.

Hi. It’s been awhile. I hope you’re doing well. I’m good, thanks.

Life is humming along as it tends to do. Sleep, work, eat, laugh, poop, repeat. That’s really what’s gone on the past couple years – not always in that particular order.

Life is good, if not a bit boring and unbloggable. Not a bad thing, just the way it goes.

To break things up, we’ve taken a few nice little trips since we stopped sweating in Sri Lanka. Our most recent get away was supposed to be to Honduras over the Christmas break. We were going to spend two weeks on the beach staying with our friend at his island villa. Sounds nice, right? Not to mention we love mooching off of the others (see our European trip in the summer).

Well, it didn’t quite turnout that way thanks to an unnamed heartless airline (United) cancelling our flight to Denver for three straight days and then not having any availability for the next week. Shit.

Long story short, after much swearing and tossing of 3-day old packed luggage, we made the best of it and booked an all-inclusive, week-long trip to Cuba leaving the next day. Not the trip we had planned, but the forecast was for sun and the price was right (especially since United refunded our Honduras flights).

Cuba, not Cuba

We’ve both been to all-inclusive resorts before. They’re not our favourite places, but you really can’t go too wrong when it’s 30 above and there are 17 free bars. And it’s -30 in Regina.

The first couple days were great – swimming, scuba diving, snorkeling, judging others – all things we enjoy very much. But, by day three, we were looking to escape the fake resort life (and I was getting tired of beating Trina in tennis). So with Havana over 700 km away and only resorts for as far as the eye could see, our only way out was renting a couple of one-speed bikes with baskets on the front and pedaling for as far as our legs would take us.

With only 750 ml of water, sandals and no shirt or food, we sped away on bikes we borrowed from a security guard at the neighbouring 5-star resort. We had no map and were going to a place Trina vaguely remembered reading about online – Cayo Guillermo. I had no idea what was there or how far it was. I only knew that we were making it there or dying – whatever came first.

Not that Trina and I talked about it first. It’s just kind of an unspoken rule that whatever we do will eventually turn into some sort of an endurance challenge.

After about 30 minutes of pedaling in the direction we thought was the right way, we came up to the first road sign that said – Cayo Guillermo 38 km. We both saw it and we both said nothing. We just kept going.

At the the 19 km mark, we stopped for a sip of water and had the silly conversation about whether we were going to keep riding. We both knew the answer – neither one of us would ever signal that we’d had enough. And to tell you the truth, it was a great little ride. Yeah, my butt was sore and I was severely dehydrated, but the weather was fantastic and we had escaped the buffets and the poolside aerobics.

While there wasn’t much to see other than another beach, some resorts and a flock of flamingos in Cayo Guillermo, it was well worth the 5-hour, 100 km bike ride. (Even though I contemplated just laying down in the ditch and letting nature take its course at about the 70 k mark.)

We were actually gone so long that a search party was sent out from where we rented the bikes Apparently the other tourists don’t go that far? Wimps.

Anyways, we had a very nice week and we’re already planning our next escape.

Happy 2015 everyone. Enjoy some pics of the trip…

Shaun

Here’s a look at our resort’s beach. Nice water. I peed in it.

A rocky outcrop.

The resort’s pool.

One of the best parts of an all-inclusive are the towel animals the maid makes for you. The better the tip, the better the animal. This was worth 3 pesos.

An elephant.

Swans.

A bunny.

There were hundreds of these cabins at our resort and barely any were being used. They might be filled with Americans next year.

On the way to the beach.

One of the restaurants. Not much to look at during the day.

Looking for a way off the resort.

This was half way through our 100 km bike ride. We weren’t looking so chipper by the end. Apparently we had the wind on the first part. Yikes.

This statue was pointing at something. We saw some great old cars during our bike ride.

Flamingos hanging out on the island.

The European reunion

This is the best shot I can find of most of the VSO gang at Mark and Sewandi’s wedding. Shaun is MIA though.

It seems like forever ago, and yet just like yesterday that we were all sweating together in Sri Lanka – a group of quirky VSO volunteers. We came not knowing what to expect out of Sri Lanka and through all the adventures, we helped each other deal with the perceived insanity. Our collective experience brought us close together despite our differences. Upon departing Sri Lanka, Shaun and I promised we would visit in Summer 2014 . Before we knew it, summer was upon us, many of our VSO friends were back in their respective homelands and we could finally afford to travel to Europe thanks to the art of freeloading.

First up, there are Marjorie and Richard- the quintessential British couple. They speak proper English (Marjorie even flutters her eyes when doing so), love tea and cake and say everything is “brilliant” (but they can’t understand why we say everything is “awesome”). Marjorie and Richard live near the magical land of Hebden Bridge. After a couple years of Marj’s vivid descriptions of the place I expected unicorns, and I must say it didn’t disappoint. Okay, there were no unicorns, but there was the Tour de France passing through and lots of fireworks. Former volunteer Texas Bill also joined in on the festivities, and he is not the quintessential Texan. He did not wear a cowboy hat or bring a concealed weapon to the party.

Then it was off to see Mark and Vindy (aka Sewandi ). Shaun was the best man at their wedding in Sri Lanka and you may recall posts about the big event. The happy couple had just moved into a new flat a few days before and we were their first house guests – a big honour. This meant we were force feed copious amounts of rice and curry. No oil lamp was lit, but this too was a truly auspicious gathering. I only was able to stay the one night but Shaun stayed on and got the star treatment as the couple guided him through many tourist destinations. Mark was prepared as always when they arrived off the first bus to pouring rain and had no umbrellas or rain coats. He did however have 50lbs of books and journals with him!

In the meantime, I was off to Italy to meet, Sonalee and go on a cycle tour of Tuscany. I taught with Sonalee in Sri Lanka, and we became good friends over spin classes and margaritas so it seemed a natural fit to meet for a cycling tour that included vigorous climbs with frequent breaks for cappucino, gelato and/or wine. The scenery was amazing, the weather was hot and the conversations were fantastic.

Shaun met up with me at the end of the cycle trip to hike through some of the most picturesque parts of the Italian Riveria. This was only after hanging out with VSO Beth and Jo for a week. There he was beat in golf, trapped like a beached whale on the shore of Brighton (he couldn’t walk to the others because the beach was too stony and he’d lost his shoes) and called to BBQ duty.  After bragging about his Canadian barbequing expertise and agreeing to cue up a meal for a large party of guests, Shaun met his match as the barbecue used briquettes. The night was saved by an oven and booze – lots of booze.

Next up was Amsterdam, the home of Hans and Els. There we partook in all traditional Dutch customs such as touring windmills, riding bicycles everywhere,  eating piles of BBQ at a Suriname festival and being cheap. Hans and Els tried their best to get us into all the museums for free by giving us their passes. It was going very well until the Van Gogh museum where the lady at the counter foiled our entire plan by asking Shaun his birthday. Shaun couldn’t remember Han’s birthday except that he was born in “the hell of 63″ a reference to a Dutch film we all saw together at the foreign film festival in Colombo (long story). When the counter lady (who didn’t seem to bat an eye that Shaun would be born in 63) asked,”What day sir?” A flustered Shaun replied, “I don’t know,” as we quickly retrieved the cards and slunk away.

London was the next stop. We played the role of the stereotypical tourists snapping selfies in front of key landmarks. A highlight was meeting up with Beth, Jo and Joao at a Sri Lankan restaurant. The restaurant did not disappoint as it provided the authentic Sri Lankan experience. Most of the menu items were not available, the waiter was completely confused by our requests, the room was hot and humid and they had giant cold Lion beers. It was easy to feel like we were right back in Sri Lanka. The atmosphere was complete when Shaun and Beth shared an earlier recording they had made entitled “The Sounds of Sri Lanka”.

We finished up the grand tour back with Kamal and Ed. They are a couple we met in Sri Lanka who now live in Manchester. They were our first stop when we arrived and were our last stop before we flew out. Our time with Kamal and Ed culminated by taking in the production of War Horse. The show was great. We just hope that one day Ed will be able to fulfill his new dream of being a master of life size animal puppetry. Dream big Ed, dream big!

I’ll leave you with a photo montage.

Trina

Kamal and Ed show us the Manchester sites.

Enjoying some bubbly and views in Marjorie and Richard’s backyard with Wild Texan Bill.

Of course, you can’t wait for the Tour de France without a proper picnic of smoked salmon sandwiches and champange. Thanks Richard for packing this for us and we love your selfie pose (no double chin!)

We are waiting by the side of the road for the Tour de France to pass by.

We are trying to get the perfect picture and we have very little time to do so as the cyclists are travelling an average of 40km/h in The Tour.

The peloton passes by in mere seconds as I tried not to get sucked into the vortex of their speed.

What Tour de France party is complete without fireworks set off from a bike?

No journey in England in complete without tasting lots of pub food.

We loved hiking in the Lake District. Thanks Marj and Richard for a brillant time.

Our hosts Mark and Vindy pose for a shot in Robin Hood’s Bay just moments after Shaun rescued Mark from the edge of a cliff (at least that’s what he tells me).

Here is the evidence of the delicious food in their flat.

Shaun got to tour around with Mark and Vindy to places such as Whitby which is famous for the World’s Best fish and chips and the site where Dracula came ashore.

Here’s the group of Brits we joined up with to cycle Tuscany.

I’m not sure this was such a good idea seeing as how wobbly my legs were feeling at the time.

This photo pretty much sums up how difficult some of the ascents were to bike in the heat.

Our cycling trip finished with at the coastal tour of Levanto. Here Sonalee and I relaxed beach side with a beer. Perfection!

Spending a week hiking with these views – not too shabby!

The five villages built into the cliffs in Cinque Terre are like something out of a fairy tale.

This was the beautiful view approaching Portovenere.

Shaun takes a photo of a cathedral in Lucca.

Cheers to our first night in Holland.

The girls sample a cherry beer.

We did get into the Rijksmuseum for free!

A typical sight as we cycled the streets.

Suriname was granted independence from the Dutch in the 1970s only they didn’t want it. As a result many Suriname people became Dutch citizens and have taken BBQ to a whole new level at an annual festival in Amsterdam.

It was so good to have Lieve and her son join for the day.

We also got to see exactly how wooden shoes were made.

Here we learned all about the traditional Dutch windmill.

Waiting over 2 hours was worth it to see the poignant exhibits in Anne Frank’s House.

We walked up and down the Thames to take in the sites. The London eye was too expensive for us cheapskates to ride but we did manage to get free tickets to Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre.

This bottle of Dutch gin added to the hilarity of Beth’s birthday supper.

It was just like old times.

The tube ride home ended in a crazy photo shoot thanks to Beth’s birthday gin.

Top excuses for why we haven’t been blogging

An August trip of camping, triathlon and watching a Rider game with friends seems blog worthy – why can’t I find the words?

It’s been a really long time since our last blog, and that’s a shame. It’s a shame because we miss it. How is it that something that was so ingrained in our lives can just disappear? Thanks to an exciting game of “teacher’s versus world” flip cup and a trip visiting family in Calgary (long story), I’ve been missing blogging even more.

So naturally I decided to write a blog all about our summer trip to Europe. Ironically, since it’s been so long since I’ve blogged I forgot that WordPress doesn’t save automatically and I lost the entire post. After an exasperated “AIYO!” and other four letter words, I’ve decided instead to write a list of excuses that have prevented us from blogging since returning in Canada.

1. ” I don’t want to offend anyone”. – You can no longer be as candid or frank. Political correctness simply didn’t exist in Sri Lanka. Stereotyping and over-generalizing were simply a way to better understand the world. As long as all parties could share a laugh and some curry – all was good.

2. “Our lives are too boring now”.- Life in Canada is back to our norm. It is what we’ve always known and sometimes we feel people will find it too boring. Jokes about Regina will only get you so far.

3.”There is no time in the day.”- Entering back into Canadian life has also meant it’s back to Canadian schedules. While I think we are not running as crazily as we used to, long gone are my days of gym, tan and laundry. Not to mention, it’s never hot enough to sip G & T’s which I think aided in the creative process.

4. We have television. – Shaun was the primary author of our blog and his evenings are now dedicated to watching sports on TSN or Netflix.

5. We have iPhones – Those things can be so distracting with continual access to Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest and other time sinks. Just last night I actually witnessed Shaun watching television, listening to a podcast, browsing the internet on his iphone, reading a book and eating a sandwich all at the same time.

6. “I’ve got too much work to do”. – This excuse is usually followed for me by writing lists and then procrastinating. Procrastination techniques include opening the fridge door and hoping a delicious snack will appear,  checking the weather, Facebook, Twitter and local real estate all on my iPhone, and ruminating about all the things I have to do and how there is never enough time. What can I say except that I think I am genetically predisposed to this disorder.

7. “I’ll write about it tomorrow.” – Since the words aren’t quite flowing in the moment – might as well try tomorrow.

8. “It’s too late to write about that now.” – In this age of instant media, I feel as though if we don’t write about an event the instant it happens, it is old news and no one will be interested. It’s gotten to the point where one wonders if it isn’t on social media did it really happen? Can you imagine hundreds of years from now when archeologists unearth this mass of ancient texts known as tweets, hashtags and status updates what they will think?

So now that the excuses are out of the way, I guess I should attempt to rewrite the blog about our Europe trip. . . although the Rider game is on in 3 hours and I should go for a run, go to yoga, write a university paper, get groceries – wait, maybe there is a delicious snack in the fridge.

Trina

Resolutions are for Chumps!

True to my New Year’s Resolution I decided to stop and capture  the beauty of -40. You’re not going to see an ice halo known as a “sundog” in the tropics.

Another year has come and gone. It’s amazing to think that one year ago we were in the Himalaya’s drinking Nepali home brew and dancing around a camp fire with a troupe of super sherpas. This year we stayed a lot closer to home for the holidays. In fact, aside from an extended weekend ski trip to the hills where we discovered that it is still possible to hot tub in -45 degrees, we stayed right at home. It was nice to celebrate with family and friends.

It also was a reminder of just how hectic this time of the year can be. Shaun and I both found ourselves setting guidelines to keep things simple this year. The commercialism and the expectation of perfection can be enough to drive anyone crazy.  Luckily I’ve learned over the years that the key to life is low expectations. If you are disappointed, you simply need to lower your expectations.

That leads me to my rant about New Year’s resolutions.  My resolution is to be less negative. Now this is a lofty goal since I believe resolutions are for chumps. But then again, I’m just going to be less negative not more positive. This is an important distinction as I won’t want to become someone who puts 21 exclamation points in a single Facebook post; that’s just not me.

So here are some ways I believe we all could be less negative.

* In Saskatchewan, in the winter, avoid all conversations having to do with the weather. They are a trap.

*  In the small window of time when the weather becomes warmer, drop everything and get outdoors. Build a snowman, go for a run, snowshoe, ski, toboggan, skate and sleep in an igloo all that very day.

* Move to Kelowna, BC, the magical land where real estate is cheaper and it has been only -1 all week!

* Listen to Ace of Base. If you are of my generation and female, you just can’t feel down when reliving this classic 90s school dance hit.

* See the humour in everything. Believe me it is everywhere. For example, when your dad lends you a calving sleigh to take a couple of Congolese kids sledding for the first time, but first uses it to take a deer carcass to them. Or when you try to explain that a traditional Christmas in your family means ordering Chinese food on Christmas Eve and getting together with your Jewish relatives.

* Watch Toronto Mayor Rob Ford apologize. It never gets old.

Happy 2014!

Trina

This year we hosted a “Christmas and Curry” party where we served great Sri Lankan short eats. We were lucky to have met a Sri Lankan couple living in Regina who prepared cutlets and patties for us. I was so excited to meet Sonali and Darshan to speak Sri Lankan English (Sringlish) together. Oh yeah, and no party is complete without some dancing as pictured (I think??)

No Christmas party at our house is complete without a visit from “Santos”, the Mexican Santa Claus.

We’re not quite sure how this obscure tradition started, but Santos shows up at any Christmas party we throw and regifts treasures of Christmas past. This year Shaun received the complete set of the 2011 Regina Red Sox trading cards. In the words of Santos, “F-ing rights!”

Our Christmas Eve celebrations had it all this year. A 90 year old great aunt who loves karaoke, a refugee family, and the police (my sister and her partner on a break). What more could you ask for?

We, of course, had to spoil our African nephews on their first Christmas in Canada.

Jesse and Joel didn’t know exactly what to do when we gave them their wrapped gifts, but they sure looked great in their hats.

We finally got a picture of Calvin and Josie (parents of Jesse and Joel) as they open their stockings. All these Christmas traditions are a bit confusing to them.

A return to the simple life

Grandpa Manuel and I take a break from the manual labour. How did I get so dirty? And why is Manuel wearing my hat?

It’s been awhile. There hasn’t been much to write about in the corporate, Canadian world, which is why I decided to go to El Salvador in November for 10 days to volunteer on a Habitat for Humanity build.

I’ll do anything for some blog material.

The truth is the meeting to sign up for the build happened the week I got back from Sri Lanka in March. I saw it as a sign from sweet baby Jeebus and signed up before I had got my first pay cheque.

Needless to say it was an awesome time (as us Canadians always say) and it’s easily been the best decision I’ve made since coming home (the second best decision was buying a Grey Cup ticket, the third was remembering Trina’s birthday).

So, me and 37 other colleagues made the long journey down to San Salvador on November 8, and after a couple days relaxing on the beach, we spent 5 full, sweaty days working on 3 homes for 3 different families. We all paid or fundraised over $2,000 each to get ourselves down there, make a donation to Habitat El Salvador and buy the building material for the houses.

I know, I know. If you enjoy judging others as much as I do, you’re probably asking why we all just didn’t put our money into building houses in inner city Regina where the need is huge for decent homes?

Well, first off, it’s fucking cold in Regina in November, so the 30+ temps looked pretty good (sorry for being selfish). And, second off, I think you’ve got to do both.

For sure we need to take care of our own backyard, but the fact is we don’t live in a bubble anymore. Those days are gone. If you don’t believe me just look around Regina at all the new faces. What happens in Sri Lanka, or El Salvador, will eventually reach us here.  And instead of being surprised or outraged or ignorant when it finally does, why not search for a bit of understanding now, a bit of common ground.

And while I also know that a 10-day Habitat build is a small drop in the bucket, there was nothing small about it for those 3 families. Those three homes will completely transform those people’s lives forever.

On my build we heard the same thing every day from our family: “I can’t believe you came here from your country to help us. You don’t know us. You don’t speak our language, yet you spend your own money and leave your families at home to build us a house. It is unbelievable.”

To me, that says it all. It’s real. It’s simple. It’s human. And, it was great to be a part of.

Where to next?

Shaun

This ever-growing memorial wall in San Salvador list the estimated 70,000 civil war victims.

One of the victims of the 12-year war was Oscar Romero, a catholic bishop who was killed during Mass in 1980. Watch the movie if you get the chance.

Here’s the beach where we started and ended the trip. Pretty quiet.

Our accomodations at the build site – old cabins that coffee plantation workers used to live in.

Here’s the view from our cabins.

Mountains and volcanoes are everywhere in El Salvador.

These guys are everywhere. Still don’t understand how some people are terrified of them.

Here’s the FCC crew that I built with. Good people.

Why wouldn’t we get transported in a Jewish bus in El Salvador?

Lots of bricks to lay on day 1.

A new fashion style to mix cement presented by one of our leaders Remi.

Putting the mortar in between the bricks. Had to be careful not to push the whole wall over.

Putting in cement in the rebar forest.

Jason “The Torch” doing some supervising of the walls going up.

The walls went up quick once we got going.

Our interpreter Szabos (left) and one of the masons pose for a pic. Szabos was a beauty. A former seminary student who lived in Colorado for 10 years and is now deciding between the priesthood or a wife. I vote for storyteller.

We planted a Canadian toonie in the house for good luck.

A good cry and a hug were never far away on the job site. I, of course, just grunted manly and rubbed dirt on my face.

Temperatures were close to 40 degrees during the day, so breaks were necessary.

Our head mason Edwin made sure the house went up right. He wasn’t sure what to make of us crazy foreigners.

This young fellow showed up on day 4 to cut the bricks.

In 40-degree heat mixing the cheezpa and the mescla was an outstanding workout.

Here’s the front entrance. Almost ready for the roof.

Here’s Theresa’s son looking into his new house.

This is where I spent some time – the septic tank. We dug it down 9 feet (5′ by 5′). Good workout. Also was the official complaint department. This is Alex our other interpreter who enjoyed all the Canadian girls.

Always lots of kids around the job site to check us out.

Here’s the family on the last day with the roof ready to go on. Very proud of their new home.

Some steep climbs walking through town.

A lot of guns and gangs in El Salvador. There was no packing heat allowed in this business.

Rainie made some papussas for us for our wrap up lunch.

Here’s some of the tasty food.

A view from the plane as we made the 36-hour trip home that was full of tornadoes, overweight planes, U-turns in the air and sleeping in the airport. Good times.

Becoming Canadian again?

The boys love posing for the camera especially in my sunglasses.

This blog is dedicated to Chantel Johnson who at the most recent Rider game told Shaun that she has read every one of our blogs and thinks we should keep writing even though we’re back in less exciting Regina.

What does it mean to truly be Canadian? It’s interesting that you never really think about that question until you are on the other side of the world or you are trying your best to help a refugee family from the Congo fit in. Since befriending Calvin and Josie, I’ve done more “Canadian traditions” than I’ve ever done before in my life. At the age of 33, I cooked my first Thanksgiving dinner. Josie is regularly asking to learn to cook Canadian food so with her by my side I’ve now made homemade pizza, spaghetti, chili, soup, bread and pumpkin pie. On the flip side, she has taught me how to make tilapia and ugali. Next up will be cassava leaves.

We’ve also been trying our best to answer their questions about Canadian society. Sometimes it is just too difficult to be politically correct so we may be guilty of oversimplifying things. Here are some examples:

Example #1

Calvin and his friend Moses (after I have dropped off chocolates and carved a pumpkin with them): Tell us, how did this Halloween thing originate?

Me: Well, people from Europe brought this custom. They used to believe that spirits would come out on Halloween night so to scare them away they would dress as scary things like ghosts and witches.

Calvin: Then why are you dressed in that (referring to my Minion costume)

Me: Now people dress up in fun costumes. We no longer really believe in ghosts. I am a character from a cartoon movie. All the teachers at our school are dressed up the same for today.

Calvin: Oh . . . This is not a very professional way to dress. It is good in Canada that you don’t worry about these things.

Example #2

Calvin: People have been phoning me to offer me a credit card. Who are they?

Shaun: These are evil people who will get you into trouble with money. You must hang up on them. It is not rude ; it is a part of our culture.

Example #3

Me (as I drop something on the floor): Aiyo!

Joel and Jesse: Aiyo! Aiyo!

Calvin: What is the meaning of this?

Me: In Sri Lanka they say this. It means “oh dear”.

Calvin: I like this.

Jesse and Joel continue to throw things on the floor and exclaim “Aiyo!” as we all laugh. It is the one expression the boys have truly embraced.

For Halloween the teachers at our school all dressed as minions. Unfortunately, our principal (Gru) missed the photo as he got called away to his sick daughter.

At Shaun’s work, Halloween saw the arrival of the Golden Girls and Stan Zbornak.

The boys for some reason love sitting in their car seats even when they aren’t riding in a car.

Canadian meets the Congo is this perfect lunch spread of tilapia, ugali, cabbage, tomato sauce, Coke and pumpkin pie.

Jessie and Joel show Shaun their keyboarding skills.

Wherever I go- there I am

This is a picture 4 year old Jesse took of his brother Joel and me on a visit to their house. This Congolese refugee family has the everyday in Canada  exciting for us once again. We can’t wait to take them tobogganing!

It’s time to blog again.

How do I know this?

Well, there have been a few signs. First, it has been nearly two months since our last blog. Secondly, one of my students said she thought it was cool that I kept a blog and as I get older I have to take all the “coolness” I can get. Thirdly,  I’ve just poured myself a glass of wine. The weather may be different as well as the alcohol of choice but the sentiment is the same; it’s time to write.

“So what has it been like to adjust back to Canadian life?”, you might ask. It’s been fantastic. It’s been really tough. And it’s been everything in between. In other words, it’s been life.

Here are some examples of what I mean.

• I miss the way Sri Lanka challenged me to think about what lies below the “cultural iceberg “of everyday interactions that I just didn’t understand. Canada still challenges me to think about the world from different viewpoints, but I find myself less forgiving of what have become my own culture’s glaring flaws.
• The fact that it only taking 15 minutes to get anywhere in the city is fabulous and driving your own car certainly beats the Sri Lankan bus. So why is it that I find myself rushing in the car from one place to another? Why still the overwhelming urge to fit so many things into one day?
• I really miss “the Sams”. I wish neighbours in Canada were just as receptive to people showing up at their door to chat. Look out Nadine and Mike, we just might stop over for an hour or five unexpectedly.
• Shaun and I were both super stoked to meet a refugee family from the Congo through the Regina Open Door Society. Calvin, Josie and their two sons , Jesse (4) and Joel (2) have blessed us to see Canada through their eyes. You should have seen their excitement when we brought a bag of winter and fall clothes for the boys to try on. Not to mention the boys’ first time at the public library.  It was hilarious seeing them drink from a water fountain for the first time as well as  running round and round through the automatic doors.
• I have writers’ block here. It’s not that there isn’t anything to write about; it’s that I’m more afraid of offending people. Political correctness can be so over the top.
• There are still really big issues in Sri Lanka post civil war so it is difficult to take some of our Canadian issues seriously. For example when trying to explain to Calvin the Regina water referendum he said, “I like water so I will vote yes”. When Shaun and I explained that he would get water either way, he replied, “Then I don’t understand. What is the issue?” *DISCLAIMER: Now that I have offended a ton of people, I’d like to make the following disclaimer. I educated myself about the issues, I voted on Wednesday and I am proud to live in the nation that has the right to vote about such things.*
• One thing that has definitely followed me back to Canada is paperwork. Thankfully, I still have to fill out forms for every single request I have. Albeit there is one key difference. Bureaucracy in Sri Lanka was all about making things followed the correct hierarchy and in Canada it’s all about protecting yourself from being sued. Some new paper work additions to Regina Public Schools include a form for having an animal or plant visit your classroom, a form for teacher access to student records, a form to transport students, and a form to to get the form for reactivating my medical and dental insurances.  Basically my first month back to work has been spent filling out forms (most of which are PDFs on websites that I have been asked to print out , fill in and mail via post).
• I’m also pleased to see that the man who installed the door on my classroom is not the same man who installs the doorknob so even though there now is a door we will be waiting for the doorknob for an indefinite amount of time. I guess there is a little Sri Lanka in all of us.

The point is that no matter where in the world I go – there I am. The environment I’m in and the challenges I face each day might be different but how I chose to face them can be the same. I’m going to do my best to keep the temporary, pretend life attitude with me and see the humour in everything.

Trina

A visit to the City of Angels

If you ever get the chance to go to LA, jump on it. While it’s not a city I’d like to live in, it’s a great place to visit. Around every bend (or crazy freeway) is another pop culture reference or reminder, the weather is fantastic and the people are bat shit crazy – a great combination for fun.

With Trina being home for 17 days, it was to time to get out of Regina again. She was getting stir crazy.

So, along with our pal Schneidz (aka Trevor), at the beginning of August we decided to hit up Los Angeles to see the Blue Jays play (sort of), visit our friends Kristi, JJ and Baby Ezra in Malibu, and drink Original Coors and eat In and Out Burger.

God bless America!

It was a great time. Here are the pics:

Schneidz and I walk to Angels Stadium where someone asked us – “Who are the Blue Yays?”

Jose Bautista watches a replay of an Anaheim player hitting a homerun on the big screen. The Blue Jays lost both games we watched.

Schneidz and I scope out Huntington Beach for babes as Trina takes pictures behind us.

A look at a pier.

We also went to the Wiltern Theatre to watch some people tell jokes.

Before the comedy we ate some Korean food at Young Dong. I think we had ox.

On the Newport Beach Pier moments before I ran to a toilet.

Word on the street is that flying kites could be made illegal on California beaches, along with drinking, dogs and pretty much all fun.

Muscle Beach was just a couple of fat guys applying sunscreen with no shirts on.

A good look at the Venice Beach boardwalk – all sorts on this path.

A lot going on here. I’ll sum it up like this…Moments after this was taken about 10 Asians were chanting about Jesus in front of a Jewish synagogue, while a lady yelled at them for being Nazis. Interesting.

Exercise is bad. This entire family enjoyed the beautiful day with a ride on segways.

Having fun at the Malibu Pier.

Some nice machine work on Venice Beach.

Some street performers kicking it old school with some breakin’ and beakin’. No lino though?

If you’re ever in Malibu, come say hi to J, Kristi and Ezra. They’ll be at the beach.

Baby Ezra cheers for the beach and Uncle Humper’s white eyebrows.

Trina and I paddle around Surf Rider Beach avoiding waves. I fell in the drink a half-dozen times.

The famous Malibu Pier where surfing pretty much started in North America.

Ezra looking cool after enjoying some sand.

Rich people have horses in Malibu.

Having a duff in JJ’s hot tub.

Point Dume looking back at LA.

J and I run straight up a sandy beach swearing at each other the whole time.

The clouds flying into Regina.

Never trust a monkey and other words of wisdom

At this family “do”, my Uncle Daryle tells my father the secrets to mixing a Peachy Keen ****ed Up Monkey martini. The next thing I know he is on all fours rummaging through the cupboards to find the perfect ingredients for this creation that we must have.

So it’s been nearly a month since I’ve been back in the Queen City and blogging has been difficult. Several times I’ve started to write, but ended up deleting the entry. Somehow nothing seems worthy of writing about. It’s weird because there have been plenty of humourous everyday occurrences. My mind is still constantly running a commentary and summer in downtown Regina is prime people watching (there are some interesting characters out there). However, I can’t seem to find the right words to describe it all.

I’m experiencing a strange mix of feelings. One moment I’m loving the fact that I can do the dishes with just a touch of a button and the next I’m cursing the labyrinth that is the Walmart parking lot. Probably the thing that has hit me the hardest is the lack of spontaneity in our culture. In the temporary life that we were living in Sri Lanka nothing felt as serious or long lasting.

Having arrived back in Canada, we are expected to make plans and think of the future- boring. Life seems to be measured by what you are going to do and what you are going to buy. Nothing at all was measured in Sri Lanka. Not a single household would even own measuring cups for cooking. When I first arrived and asked Aunty Nagani, “How do you know how much spice to put in?” She replied, “It just feels right. You follow your gut.”

Now that sounds like some good advice. Only half the time I don’t know what my gut is telling me because my mind is racing.

Tonight as Shaun and I sit shivering on our balcony and listening to sounds of the Exhibition (Regina’s Fair), we’ve compiled some random wisdom for people returning to Canada after a stint overseas.

• Track down your nearest specialty grocery store. Tony’s India Food Centre, “Where the spice is right” has been a godsend.
• Prepare standard answers to stupid questions. The best way to deal with this is to make your answer sound like an ancient Chinese proverb. For example, when someone asks how your trip was reply with, “A trip is always good, but a journey; that is a test.”
• Don’t fist bump every immigrant you pass on the street. You might feel like you are one of them, but you will freak them out.
• Realize that no matter what you say, you will offend someone. We can’t keep this politically correct language straight. Referring to people as Indian can get very confusing in our province, and saying East Indian just seems weird now.
• Connect with others who have traveled. As long as he or she is not a one uper,  you will have a brilliant conversation with travel stories including agreeing that monkeys can never be trusted.
• Invite people over for (insert country name) food. People love food, and ethnic food makes them feel open minded.
• Make sure you are getting plenty of rest and exercise and don’t feel guilty if some days you just need to lie in bed and shut out the world for a bit. It’s normal.

That’s all for now. We are off to LA in the morning to visit good friends and hopefully collect some more blog worthy material.

Trina